Behind Closed Doors
by SGsVamp
Summary: Jack's POV on how the Jack/Daniel relationship developing over the years/season, as seen solely from Behind the Closed Doors of Jack's home. The twin of this story "Within These Walls" is Daniel's POV of the same story from Within The Walls of Daniel's home, was written to be read in tandem with this one or as a sequel for the complete story
1. Prologue

**Behind Closed Doors**

**Prologue**

You've heard the story of Pinocchio, right?

The little wooden puppet who dreamed of becoming a real boy and with the help of his conscience, he did.

Well, I can relate.

Because a year ago that was me; wooden, lifeless and letting the Air Force yank my strings. Each time hoping against hope that this time, this mission, was the one where those strings would get sliced. Then I got given a conscience, not by a blue fairy, but by a very wise woman and it wasn't a little cricket bug, like Pinocchio got (Although he did bug me, in every sense of the word), but a scientist of all things.

Nevertheless, he did his job. With his stubborn ability to see the good in everyone and his selfless never give up spirit, he turned that hollow shell of a man that I had become back into a real boy... Okay, a crabby old Colonel with bad knees, but you get the idea.

My conscience's name was Daniel Jackson and this is our story, told in the only way it can be safely told: behind the closed doors of my home.


	2. Children of the Gods

**Children of the Gods**

It's been an unexpected 48 hours to say the least. Up until a couple of days ago I was a retired Air Force Colonel, happy to spend my retirement stargazing, drinking some beer, while trying to make up my mind on the biggest dilemma in my life at present: Whether or not to get a dog.

Now I'm back. Back in Service. Back to being called 'Sir'. Called out of retirement to lead a flagship team through the Stargate. A post most people would give their back teeth for. Don't get me wrong, I love the job… Will put a downer on getting that dog though.

Rummaging through the sparse contents of my fridge, I push aside the half eaten Chinese carton and snag up a couple of bottles of beer.

Had someone told me a year ago that I'd be having a beer with Doctor Daniel Jackson PHD and Geek-Extraordinaire I would have laughed in their deluded face. Everyone who's ever met me knows my problem with scientists. Yet here I am offering my beer and also my home to one and the same.

Course when someone jumps in front of the killing shot intended for you, it makes you see them in a whole new light.

As I stroll back to my living room, my floppy haired saviour sneezes loudly, catching the spray in a handkerchief in the nick of time.

Tell you what, you really wouldn't know it to look at him, but inside the body of that bespectacled dweeb beats the heart of a hero. Because that's exactly what he is. A hero. He saved my life that day over a year ago on Abydos - in every possible way. In comparison, putting a roof over his head is nothing.

"Nice catch." I mock. There's something about Daniel that just begs to be teased. Maybe it's his boyish appearance that makes him look a lot younger than his 32 years.

"Thank you, sorry," he mutters, sounding like his nose is blocked. "'Gate travel always seems to make my allergies…" Daniel explains, circling his hand, He then proceed to loudly blows his nose.

"Sorry," he mutters again, apologetically and snatches the beer I'm holding out for him.

Poor guy. He has nothing. No home, no belongings, even the clothes on his back, a drab green jumpsuit, belongs to the Air Force.

"So, you were saying." I prompt. Daniel has made his living through talking. I have no idea exactly how many languages the guy knows, just that it's a lot. So getting him chatting should make him happy, right? Well, as happy as he's gonna be considering what's happened to him.

He takes the bait. "Anyway, um, as soon as you were gone, they realized they were free. I mean, Abydos was their world for the taking."

"Have a little party did ya?" I ask him, opening my beer and tossing the bottle top onto the tabletop.

"Oh yeah, big, big party. They treated me like their savior, it was um …embarrassing."

"It's amazing you turned out so normal." This is easy. Keep him talking, nod in the right places and add comments and questions were necessary.

"Well if it wasn't for Sha're I probably…" He cuts off and I can see that his lost in thought. Thoughts of his wife, stolen from him in the height of his happiness, no doubt. He gave up everything to stay with her. I don't even know about any family he left behind. He's never mentioned anyone. Not that I've asked. I didn't wanna pry. Ok that's a lie, I didn't care to know... At the time. Now, I don't wanna pry.

"She was the complete opposite of everyone else." Daniel carries on, taking a seat in the armchair on the other side of the room and breaking the tense moment that was building. "She practically fell on the floor laughing every time I tried to do some chore that they all took for granted. Like um, grinding yaphetta flour. I mean, have you ever tried to grind your own flour?"

"I'm trying to kick the flour thing."

Daniel laughs and rolls his eyes at the beer in his hand. "This is going straight to my head." Regardless, he takes another swig. "What time is it anyway? I must have 'gate lag or something."

"Daniel, for crying out loud, you've had one beer. You're a cheaper date then my wife was."

"Yes, when am I going to meet your wife?"

"Oh, probably…uh, never." I huff out. He's looking at me expectantly, waiting patiently for me to explain. It's the kind of look you get from someone's who's really listening, rather than just waiting for their turn to talk. I don't make him wait long. "After I came back from Abydos the first time, she'd already left." I tell him, shaking my head.

"I'm sorry." he says genuinely.

"Yeah, so was I. I think in her heart she forgave me for what happened to our kid, she just…couldn't forget."

"And what about you?"

"I'm the opposite, I'll never forgive myself, but sometimes I can forget… Sometimes." Okay, where the hell did that come from? I never talk about this stuff. Not to anyone. And when did this become about me? All I was trying to do was keep Daniel in his comfort zone and the bugger has turned the tables on me.

Genius - Right. Mustn't forget that.

Thankfully he doesn't comment. He just takes another swig of beer and lets us both fall into a thoughtful and surprisingly comfortable silence.

And it is comfortable. Which IS surprising. I mean we haven't seen each other in over a year and before that we weren't exactly best buddies or anything.

"So, this General Hammond?"

He doesn't have to say anymore than that for me to know just what he's thinking and what he wants to know. Sha're is out there somewhere and being a scientist he believes his only hope of getting her back is getting into on a team. I've already spoken to Hammond regarding giving Kowalski command of his own team, he listened to me then, there's no reason to think that Daniel's request wouldn't be accepted. Grateful for the subject change, I tell him, "He seems reasonable enough."

He nods thoughtfully, looking unsure. After his blunt reception from the General I'm not surprised.

"Hey, he knows what you've done for the Stargate program. He'll take that into account."

"Hope so." Nodding again, he takes a deep inhale and lets it out in a long sigh, "It's not like I'm gonna take 'no' for an answer, right?"

** ...**

We're just finishing our third beer when he lets out a jaw splitting yawn. His 'Gate-lag must be kicking in, or wearing off, whichever the case may be. I take that as cue for us to call it a night. "Wanna turn in?"

"Sure," he says, getting up too quickly on unsteady legs.

"Are you drunk?"

"Yes, quite a bit I think," he giggles.

Damn, I know he said it was going to his head, but I've never seen anyone that much of a light weight.

I lead the way down the hall to the guest room where he'll be sleeping. It's not exactly 5 star, but I've cleared my fishing stuff out of there. He stumbles along behind me, dragging his feet and bumping off the door frames.

"This okay for ya?"

"It's perfect, Jack. Thanks." he said, without even looking about the room in question. He slips past me, clumsily taking a seat on the bed and toeing off his boots.

I dunno about 'perfect' but I guess after living in a tent on a desert planet anything with a mattress would seem like luxury. Especially when you're as wasted as, well, that!

"Sure you don't need a bucket?"

He chuckles again. "I'll be fine."

"Bathroom," I point across the hallways at the door opposite his, making sure he actually looks this time. "And if you need anything else just holler."

"Will do," he says, still fumbling with the laces on the Air Force issue boots like he's made of all thumbs and for a second I consider kneeling down and taking them off of him myself, before I think better of it. Tanked as he is, I doubt he'd thank me for it.

After a few long moments of uncoordinated fumbling and some under the breath ranting (which I can only assume to be cuss words, even though I don't recognize the language), he finally rids himself of his footwear and flops down onto the bed.

He seems comfortable enough, so I leave, leaving his door ajar, just in case and make my way to my own bedroom.

**...**

"Chooo!" Sniff.

It's echoing through the whole damn house.

"Ah choo!"

I look over at my bedside alarm. 3:18am. This is what I get for being the nice guy.

"Choo!"

Being kept awake all night with his damn sneezing.

"Ah, choo!" Sniff. Sniff.

Okay, that's it. I curl up on my side and pull my pillow over my head. First thing in the morning I'm gonna get whoever they've got running the infirmary to prescribe him some extra strength antihistamines.

**...**

Surprisingly, after my restless night, I wake a full half an hour before my alarms due. Only been back in service 3 days and already my military training is kicking in, getting me up bright eyed and bushy tailed before dawn.

Showered and shaved I yank on a pair of sweatpants and go out into the hall. The guest room door is closed. Maybe that would explain how I managed to get some sleep in the end. His raucous sneezing clearly can't penetrate solid pine. This is where I get my payback.

"Daniel." I tap on the closed door. "Rise and shine." I call in a mocking sing-songy voice. One that would be irritating to any non morning person. Ha. Paybacks a bitch.

There's no response, so I try again. "Come on. Up an' at 'em, sleepy head."

Still nothing. "Daniel?" I push open the door and peek inside.

The bedroom is disappointingly geek-less. He must already be up. So much for payback.

I find him at the dining table, mug of coffee in one hand and yesterdays paper in the other.

"'Ornin'," he croaks, as I enter, clears his throat and tries again. "Morning. I hope you don't mind," he says, gesturing down at his attire.

It's only now that he's pointed it out that I notice what he's wearing: Blue sweater over a dark grey T-shirt with cream pants and a brown jacket. Or should I say: MY blue sweater over MY dark gray T-shirt, with MY cream pants and MY brown jacket. If he's comfortable enough going through my stuff I guess all that effort I put in to make him feel at home was pointless… or worked…maybe a little too well. It's a little loose on him and the extra length in the leg is bunched up around the ankle, but it's a damn sight better than that flight suit he was forced to wear yesterday, which just looked wrong on him. He's a civilian, after all, not an Air Force cadet… Space cadet maybe...

"You sleep okay?"

"Fine," he claims, attempting unsuccessfully to hide a wide yawn behind his fist.

"Just a thought, Daniel; poker, not the game for you."

He chuckles shyly, "More of a chess man anyway,"

"Great. I gotta board kicking around here somewhere." His I.Q versus my tactical experience, should be a good match. "Maybe we'll have a game later on."

"Sure," he shrugs, sounding not too enthusiastic about the idea. He's downtrodden. That much is clear as crystal. He's lost everything. I know what that's like. But he was the one that showed me there can be something worth living for. And in this bleak moment I decide I've got to return the favour.

I check my watch. "Come on, we better get a move on if we wanna make the 0730 hours briefing. Kawalsky's first command, don't wanna be late."


	3. The Enemy Within

**THE ENEMY WITHIN **

We bumble our way inside, overburdened with shopping bags. "I'll pay you back." he says as I kick the front door closed behind us.

"No hurry," I tell him. My credit card's taken a bit of a battering, but it's worth it. Only wish he'd chosen something a little less ...well... plaid. I mean, he's a good looking guy. I don't know why he hides it like that. With some clothes that actually fit his frame better rather than swamp him and some contacts to show off those baby blue rather than hiding them and I'll bet he'd be fighting the woman off with a stick... Okay, maybe his wardrobe choice is for the best. "Just glad you don't have to keep borrowing my clothes."

He deposits his bags on my coffee table. "You said it."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He peeks innocently over his shoulder at me, "What?" he blinks.

"Nothin'" I reply absently. That look has reminded me of another thing that bothered me so much more than his lack of a wardrobe and I leave him to sort through the new purchases and head to my bedroom.

Out of everyone on the two teams that went through the 'gate this last time, only one of them was unarmed. Daniel. True, Carter and I had our weapons stripped from us anyway, but if SG-2 hadn't been as equipped as they were none of us would have made it out of there.

Everyone who steps through that 'Gate is taking a risk. A big one. Therefore everyone who steps through the 'gate needs to know how to defend themselves, they can't rely on the other team members.

Daniel with his innocent nature, that gives him the appearance of a little boy lost is only going to make him all the more likely a target, a victim. To continue going without a weapon is as good as suicide.

Yeah, that's gonna happen over my dead body.

Reaching up to the topmost shelf, above the door in my closet, I pull down the dusty topped box.

The memories of when this weapon was last used are there, as they always are, on the edge of my mind, but I fight them back. This needs to be done.

Daniel needs to learn to use a gun.

This one took a life I love, now it's going to be used to help protect one I care for. Somehow, I find that thought comforting and it gives me the strength I need to take it back through to the living room where I find Daniel still pulling the labels off his new clothes.

He eyes up the contents, then looks up at me with sad questioning eyes. Ones that tell me he's guessed precisely which gun this is and he's wondering why I still have it. Yet, thankfully, he doesn't ask, because I have no idea how to explain it, other than a morbid connection that stopped me from getting rid of it in the first place.

"I'm really not keen on guns," he tells me, with those innocent baby blues. The whole reason why we're doing this. He looks too sweet, too kind hearted to attack, possibly kill, even in self defence. Thankfully, that theory hasn't been tested and hopefully it won't ever be, but there's no harm in being prepared for the worst.

"I get that." I really do. "But it's high time you learnt. I don't want any of us going out there unarmed again."

He looks thoroughly unconvinced.

"Look, even if you don't use it, it shows you mean business."

"I doubt the jaffa even know what guns are." he says with a know-it-all attitude.

"All they need to know is that it's a weapon. What do you think the enemy will think when they see the four of us coming through the 'gate. Teal'c, built like he could take on a truck, carrying his staff, Carter and I, guns in hand, a backup holstered and knife's on our belts and then there's...you. What you gonna use to repel the enemy? Colorful language?"

He give me a brief very angry looking glare, then drops his head sadly.

"Okay, you've made your point. I get it. I'm the weak link."

That's not how I would've put it, but it is somewhat true. I've seen his inner strength, but to the enemy his compassionate nature that compels him to not hold a weapon is a sign of weakness and one they'll take full advantage of. I would in their shoes.

He eyes it up again, carefully as if it was going to lurch out of the box and bite him. "I don't know what I'm doing." he says hesitantly.

"And that's the last time you'll be able to say that." I tell him, pushing the box under his nose.

With a defeated sounding sigh he takes the gun from the box. I sit beside him and show him how to check the chamber, and the clip, proving that it's unloaded. This is just his first lesson and I don't keep bullets in the house. Not since...

His elbow keeps getting in my way as we both handle the weapon, so I wrap my arm behind him instead, watching what we're both doing from over his shoulder. He turns slightly, leaning his back against my side and in the close proximity I go through the basics; Turning the safety on and off, how to change clips and how to grip and aim it to minimise the recoil. Not the most usual of training positioning, but this is Daniel not some jarhead.

He picks it up quickly, if somewhat reluctantly, as I knew he would. Testing his aim will have to wait 'til we can get onto the firing range, but he's still made proficient improvement for his first lesson.

**...**

It sounds like someone has let a warthog loose in the house.

"KKKKKNNNNUUUUUnnnnnnnnKKKKKNNNNUUUUUnnnnnnnnKKKKKNNNNUUUUUnnnnnnnnKKKKKNNNNUUUUUnnnnnnnn."

An asthmatic warthog.

"KKKKKNNNNUUUUUnnnnnnnnKKKKKNNNNUUUUUnnnnnnnnKKKKKNNNNUUUUUnnnnnnnnKKKKKNNNNUUUUUnnnnnnnn."

An asthmatic warthog playing an open air rock concert with a buzz saw.

"KKKKKNNNNUUUUUnnnnnnnnKKKKKNNNNUUUUUnnnnnnnnKKKKKNNNNUUUUUnnnnnnnnKKKKKNNNNUUUUUnnnnnnnnKKKKKNNNNUUUUUnnnnnnnn."

Didn't think I'd miss the sneezing, but Daniel's allergy induced blocked nose snoring it worse.

"KKKKKNNNNUUUUUnnnnnnnnKKKKKNNNNUUUUUnnnnnnnnKKKKKNNNNUUUUUnnnnnnnnKKKKKNNNNUUUUUnnnnnnnn."

Much worse. How the house is still standing and not been shaken down to it's foundations by the vibrations of it I don't know. It's certainly shaking my nerves down to their foundations.

I pummel my pillow into a more pliable shape and wrap it around my ears. The buzz saw is still playing, but I hope that it's now muffled enough to sleep through. My fillings have stopped rattling at least.

"Kkkkknnnnuuu...kkkkknnnnuuuuu...kkkkknnnnnuuuuuu...kkkkknnnnnnuuuu...kkkkknnnnnuuuuu...kkkkkknnnuuuu..."

If it had been anyone else I wouldn't be putting up with this shit. Friends I've known my whole life would have a bucket of cold water thrown over them by now, or their nose pinched until they either woke up or turned blue, whichever came first, but not Daniel. Daniel has a get out of jail free card. That man can keep me awake all night every night and I'll take it. Happily... Okay, grumpily, but I'll take it nonetheless.

And not because he saved the lives of me and my men, not because he jumped in front of that staff and took the hit meant for me, but because of what he did after that. Because of who he is.

Also, he needs his sleep. I don't think he's slept properly, if at all, since we got back... Huh? Has the snoring stopped?

I lift the pillow and listen carefully... Silence. Bliss. Thank God for that. As much as I would have put up with that bone shaking noise if I have to, doesn't mean I want to.

Flopping back on my back, I close my eyes and try to let sleep take me...

But now my mind is whirling. Replaying that fateful day back on Abydos over and over. Daniel didn't just save my life that day, he gave me my life. Everything I have, everything I am now is because of him. He made me start seeing myself through his eyes and it made me look harder. Made me see what there was too live for rather than reasons not to want to live at all. I owe him so much. More than I can ever repay.

Is that...? That sounded like a sob.

Okay, now I'm torn. Do I keep my nose out of his business and spare him the embarrassment of getting caught crying? Or do I go and offer a shoulder to cry on? I don't really know him well enough to guess at what he'd want and I wonder what would he do in my place ... He wouldn't leave someone in obvious pain, of that I'm sure. But that doesn't mean that he want to be bothered.

Still, there's no way in hell I'm going to be able to sleep now. I can't leave him to suffer alone and I'll never know unless I try. I get out of bed and head for his room. The worst that can happen is he tells me to get lost, right?

He's on his side, facing away from the door. "Daniel?"

He let's out a startled wet sounding gasp.

"You asleep?"

There's a long pause, where I wonder if he's gonna try and fake sleep, before he obviously realises that the rouse would be pointless. "I was."

No shit. "I heard. In fact, I think the whole neighbourhood did."

"What?" he asked, rolling over to face me, propping himself up on his elbow, frowning in confusion.

"You were snoring."

"I don't snore."

"Wanna bet?"

Closing his eyes, he drops back down on the bed, tucking his arm underneath his pillow. "What do you want, Jack?" he huffs out grumpily.

"Snoring stopped. Had to check if you were still breathing ...or if I'd just gone deaf."

Not opening his eyes, he lets out a wet sounding chuckle through his nose. As if I needed further proof that he'd been crying.

"I'm fine, Jack."

He sounds so sincere, but I know it's not. He's embarrassed. I shouldn't have come in. I should have left him to deal with it in his own way. Because he doesn't need to spell it out for me, I know what's upset him; Kawalsky died. The first person we attempted to free from a snake in the head, died. We tried, did everything we could, but in the end the snake won.

And that means that right now it doesn't look good for Sha're and Skaara when we find them.

It's been a hard day for us all, but for him it's something more. It's a dent in his hope. Not the hope of finding his wife, because he won't give up 'til he does, neither of us will, but on getting her back how she was before. How many knocks can he take before he crumbles?

"'Kay, well," I go to leave. Let him have his privacy. I shouldn't have come. I should have just let him be.

"Jack?"

Pausing at the door, I turn back to face him. He's still on his side, hugging his pillow, but he's looking up at me seriously.

"Thanks."

That sincerity, I do believe. "Anytime, Buddy. Anytime." I whisper as I pull the door to behind me.

I slip back beneath the covers, still warm as I wasn't out of bed for long, but it was long enough to make me feel better. Long enough to let him know that however bad things are he's not in it alone. He understood that, I'm sure he did. The guy's insightful enough to know what I'm saying without me having to spell it out for him. He just - he just gets me.

"Chooo!" Sniff... Sniff.

Oh God, spare me!


End file.
